


Gone Fishing

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, ardyn is trashy in more ways than one, attempted drowning, environmental pollution?, how do I even tag this, merman ardyn izunia, noctis is inappropriately horny, or as we like to call him... merdyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Noctis likes to catch fish. This time, the fish catches Noctis.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 10
Kudos: 118





	Gone Fishing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ramel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramel/gifts).



It’s a pristine day. The sky is clear, the water is calm, and Noctis whistles happily as he casts his line off the pier. A case of freshly caught fish lies at his feet, waiting to be made into tonight's dinner.

It's been a long time since he was able to just relax like this. The past few weeks have been a mess; they've spent their days running from imperials, taking on hunts, and just generally trying to stay alive. By the time they'd dragged themselves to Cape Caem the previous day, they'd all been exhausted. While Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto had decided to spend the day relaxing at the house, Noctis had taken the car for a spin. There’s this little fishing spot only a few minutes down the road, nestled where the river meets the sea, and it’s the perfect place to relax and enjoy the sunshine.

No annoying tourists like the ones at Galdin Quay, no risk of being ambushed by some anti-royalist who recognizes the prince in exile. It’s just Noctis, the crash of waves against the rocky shore, and the gentle rustle of cool wind in his hair. For once since Insomnia fell and his entire world was turned on its head, everything feels okay. Everything feels _right._

There’s a sudden tug on his line, a fierce pull that has Noctis yelping and pulling back on instinct. He grins as he’s met with another sharp tug. It feels like a big one—maybe a tide grouper. Noctis pivots his body to face where the fish seems intent on taking him, slowly and carefully reeling it in.

Within minutes he’s grunting and sweating, struggling to keep hold of the fishing rod. This fish, whatever it is, is _huge,_ strong and angry at being caught on a hook. Noctis almost regrets not bringing Gladio along; he might have more success trying to brute force the damn thing. It changes directions without warning, veering left where it’s been going right for ages now, and Noctis yelps as he’s pulled unceremoniously into the water.

It’s only up to his waist, but the Cygillan Sea is freezing even under the midday sun. Noctis shivers, reeling in on his fishing rod with the expectation that the damn thing has already broken free.

Another sharp tug, and he’s under the water.

The sting of salt in his eyes and rush of water in his lungs have him gagging and sputtering, trying to reach the shore. Something grabs his ankle, yanking him further out to sea. Noctis thrashes. He can barely think with the ocean crashing in his ears, disoriented and unable to see or hear a damn thing. He manages to break the surface once, twice, swallowing gasps of air before he’s dragged under again.

The further down he gets, the more impossible it becomes to figure out which way is up and which way is down. He kicks out anyway, aiming for the thing gripping his ankle. His foot collides with something solid, and just like that, he's free. As he frantically swims away, his eyes crack open; through the burn of saltwater, he can see something glowing near the ocean floor, purple and pulsing like the runes of a haven.

The moment he breaks the surface, he starts to gag. There’s no way he can haul himself up onto the pier in this state, so he paddles over to the rocks creeping out from the shore. The seawater in his stomach lurches up with a vengeance, and he spends the next several minutes keeled over as the sun beats down relentlessly, vomiting.

His lungs feel like they’ve been pulverized with a mallet and his limbs are shaking, but other than that, he’s alive. He wipes the seawater and tears away from his eyes, glancing back at the water to see if anything else came up after him. Maybe the damn fish—or octopus, or whatever it was—died when he kicked it. At least, then, he’d have the satisfaction of dragging it back to Cape Caem and watching Iggy chop it up.

There’s a dusting of red over the surface of the water. Ripples form, like something is thrashing beneath the surface. Noctis leans back on his arms, watching the water warily. A huge lavender fin breaks the surface, and that’s all the warning Noctis gets before a very attractive, very naked man flops onto the rocks next to him.

“Well?” he sneers, amber eyes narrowed and sharp teeth bared. “Am I going to get an apology?”

Noctis would normally choke out an automatic ‘sorry’ to anyone so aggressively demanding one, but at the moment he’s too preoccupied with trying to make sense of this man’s anatomy. His face looks human enough, but there are purple fins fanning out from the sides of his jaw where his ears should be, little scales dotting the space around his eyes, and his long, twisted hair is a purplish red so shocking there’s no way it can be natural. His chest is broad and hairless, his muscled arms dotted with glittering purple and black scales, and further down his sides are four identical slits that run parallel to his ribs, the skin blotchy and blackened around them.

The weirdest part of his—costume? cosplay?—starts at his hips. His abdomen stops just above his groin, skin giving way to a latticework of scales; instead of splitting into legs his body stays fused together in a shimmery, purple-black _tail_ that’s probably the length of Noctis’s entire body, covered in pretty translucent fins and pearly white stripes.

And trash. Lots of trash.

“Excuse me,” the man says, causing Noctis’s eyes to snap back up to his face. “Yes, that's better. My eyes are up here, in case you hadn't noticed. Now, I feel I deserve an apology for my broken nose, don’t you?”

On closer inspection, his nose _is_ broken. It’s crooked and there’s blood seeping out of one nostril, mixing with the seawater sticking to his face.

“...sorry,” Noctis says, and summons a potion.

The man—was he doing a cosplay shoot in the ocean or something?—regards it with distaste. “What is that?”

“It’s magic,” Noctis says, reaching for one of his hands. They’re webbed, with sharp black nails that look almost like claws. “It’ll heal your nose.”

“I asked for an apology, not a pathetic display of your inane human magic—”

Noctis slips the potion into his hand and squeezes his fingers around it. It shatters almost instantly, green magic curling over the man’s body and centering on his nose, which is promptly straightened out. The man blinks, and Noctis notices that his eyes are covered with a film that looks suspiciously like an extra set of eyelids.

“Oh. Well.” He clears his throat. “I still demand an apology.”

“Why’d you try to drown me?” Noctis asks abruptly, the ridiculousness of the situation starting to wear off as he coughs again. “Seriously, what the hell?”

“You were mucking around in _my_ sea, catching _my_ prey. Do you know how difficult it is to find enough to eat when you humans are constantly stealing what’s ours?”

The words are spit with a venom so fierce it has Noctis reeling back. “Look, who do you think you are? Last time I checked, this land belongs to the Duscaean government—”

“Yes, yes, you humans own the land. The sea, however, is ours, and this particular section is _mine_.” He bares his teeth again, snarling. His fins flutter. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself, human?”

With a strange rush of clarity, Noctis realizes that this is all very elaborate for a cosplay, especially considering that this guy has apparently been swimming around in it. His hand creeps forward of its own accord, brushing ever so slightly over the man’s abdomen, leading down to his tail, and—

And there’s no seam. No separation between skin and scales. It’s a flawless transition.

It’s real.

The man jerks away, hissing as the movement causes a plastic six pack ring to cut into the flesh of one of his fins. “First you assault me, now you molest me. I don’t know what else I expected.”

“You’re a merman. An actual merman,” Noctis murmurs, eyes wide.

The man gives him a look that’s remarkably similar to the expression Ignis wears when he’s trying to communicate, without words, that Noctis has just said something insurmountably stupid.

All his training about what to do if he runs into an angry magical creature crashes into the forefront of his mind. _Show respect and deference. Don’t piss them off. And above all else, get away as quickly as possible._

He’s already fucked up those first two parts, but he can always try and salvage the situation before he gets cursed. Or maimed. Or killed. He bows his head. “I apologize for harming you, and for fishing in your ocean. I was unaware.”

The merman _hmph_ s. “Very well. I _suppose_ I can forgive you, just this once.”

“That’s… very kind of…” Noctis can’t pull his eyes away from the trash tangled up in the merman’s body. Most of it is plastic, cutting into his tail and fins, but there’s a tangle of a fishing net, too, all knotted around the swell of his tail. His hair is matted with trash, food wrappers and fishing lures. Noctis bites his lip in guilt when he spots his own lure embedded in one of his ear fins. “Do you, uh, need some help…?”

“Oh, the fisherman is offering to help little old me? What an honor,” the merman drawls viciously. “Tell me, great one, do you have a name?”

Noctis avoids the question. He hasn't been doing too great so far, but he _does_ remember that he's not supposed to tell magical creatures his name. “Look, you’ve got a bunch of garbage on you and it looks painful. I can cut it off for you.”

"And why should I trust you to do such a thing?" the merman hisses.

"What would I get out of hurting you?" Noctis says, cringing when the merman snorts out a laugh. "You don't have anything to lose, right?"

“I suppose that's true,” the merman says. He doesn’t shy away from the knife Noctis summons.

Very carefully, he begins cutting off the trash. Some of it has already been degraded by seawater, and a fair amount is buried _in_ his flesh, having cut wounds into his body that healed over in a mess of scarred, twisted tissue. The merman groans and hisses quietly as Noctis removes each bit of plastic, first from his tail and then from his hair, and Noctis tries very much not to think about how strangely erotic the sounds are, or how the guy is still very naked, chest heaving as Noctis leans over him to apply more potions to the now open wounds.

“I’m loath to admit it, but that feels worlds better,” the merman mutters as Noctis pulls the last bit of garbage, a faded candy wrapped, out of his hair. “What was your name, again?”

“Noctis,” he answers without thinking, then curses himself.

“Noctis,” the merman says, rolling it over his tongue. “I suppose that isn’t a bad name. I am Ardyn. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

It certainly doesn’t sound like he considers it a pleasure. Now that he’s no longer in pain, Ardyn seems content to stretch and lounge back on the rocks, letting the sun reflect off his scales. Noctis tries very hard not to think about how this is basically a scene right out of his teenage fantasies, and swallows down the sudden dryness in his throat.

“I, uh, thought mermen were social animals,” he says, and winces at having called this very obviously intelligent, very obviously _attractive_ man an ‘animal.’ Ardyn opens an eye, but doesn’t respond. “I’ve been here a lot, and I’ve never seen you or any other merperson hanging around.”

Ardyn’s eyes flicker away, the sun catching on them in a way that makes them flash white for a moment. “I haven’t lived here for very long. I was forced to move here.”

“Oh. Uh, why?”

He snorts derisively. "I doubt you would understand."

"Try me."

Ardyn flicks his tail in the water, tossing up a cascade of droplets that sparkle in the sun. “I was betrayed. You see, my precious baby brother and I were the princes of the Cygillan mer-kingdom, destined to rule together. Yet, he desired the throne for himself. He defied destiny and concocted a plan to poison my name and cast me out.” Ardyn sighs, looking up to the sky. "Those sheep that call themselves our people followed him blindly. I sacrificed everything for them, and they threw me away like my years of service meant nothing.”

“That sounds awful,” Noctis says, and although the story is nothing like his own he can’t help but feel he has something in common with this wayward fish-prince. Both tossed out of their own kingdoms, hated by the people they tried so desperately to protect. “Are you going to be alright here?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ardyn says, in a tone that does nothing to reassure Noctis. “I’m certain it will just take some getting used to. There isn’t nearly as much human waste where I'm from. I was merely caught, ah, unawares. It shall not happen again.”

 _Even though it happened, what, twenty times already?_ Noctis thinks, but doesn’t say. He watches as Ardyn arches his back again, tail splashing idly in the shallow water, and he can at least pretend he’s offering solely because he feels bad for the guy and not because he’s thirsty when he says, “you could come with me.”

Ardyn raises an eye at him. “Pardon?”

“Come with me,” Noctis repeats. “My friends and I have this house not far from here—well, it’s my dad’s house, but he’s gone now, so I guess it’s mine. There’s a harbor there, so you’ll be able to hang out in the sea. Someone will always be around to cut trash off of you if you get tangled up again.”

“A tempting offer,” Ardyn says. “And what, exactly, do you aim to get out of this?”

“Nothing,” Noctis says, a blush tinting his cheeks. “I just want to help.”

All his hopes that Ardyn won't notice his reddening cheeks are dashed when he grins wolfishly, propping himself up in a pose that could only described as ‘draw me like one of your Altissian girls.’ “Are you _certain_ there’s nothing you want from me? Nothing at all?”

“I, uh,” Noctis stammers, his heart thrumming up a beat in his chest. He shivers as a gust of wind blows over the beach, reminding him that he’s still soaked to the bone. Ardyn's fins flutter. They catch the light of the sun like stained glass, pretty and bright.

“Yes, Noctis?” Ardyn murmurs, leaning in closer.

The King’s Knight theme shatters the air. Noctis scrambles for his phone as Ardyn's eye twitches. He fully intends on declining the call and trying to salvage what remains of the mood, but when he sees it’s Ignis, he sighs in defeat and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” he says dryly, hoping his annoyance is obvious. Ardyn sighs dramatically and throws himself back against the rocks.

 _“Highness,”_ Ignis says, his voice dripping in relief. _“Forgive me, but we noticed you had removed quite a few potions from the Armiger’s stock. Are you alright?”_

“Fine,” Noctis bites out. “I’m totally fine, so you can hang up now and leave me alone. You absolutely don’t need to come out here.”

 _“Are you sure?”_ Ignis asks. Noctis has to bite down his scream of frustration. _“If you’re injured but trying to pretend you’re fine, you should know none of us will—”_

“Oh, darling!” Ardyn calls out loudly, in what Noctis has to assume is his best porn actress impersonation. “Kindly finish up your phone call! I’m ever so _lonely_ over here.”

There’s a second where the world stands still as Ardyn grins, Ignis shuts up, and Noctis feels embarrassment encircle him like a hug from an old friend.

 _“Hot catch, Noct?”_ Ignis asks, and Noctis throws his phone into the sea.

\---

“Did you seriously just litter in my ocean,” Ardyn hisses viciously. Noctis kicks off his boots and dips into the water with a sigh.


End file.
